


Campus - Vampire Weekend

by honeybeb



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: College AU, Confessions, DNF, Dream's POV, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Making Out, Misunderstanding, Pining, dialogue heavy towards the end, dream is a dumbass, george is bad at communicating his feelings lol, inspired by a song, lots of angsty remembering from dream
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-11 09:20:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28468920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/honeybeb/pseuds/honeybeb
Summary: "Then I see you, you're walking 'cross the campus""If someone is meant to be yours, they'll find a way back to you.."George and Dream used to be friends.Well, actually, they used to be more than friends.
Relationships: Clay | Dream & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 34
Kudos: 304





	Campus - Vampire Weekend

**Author's Note:**

> hiiii! this oneshot is my babey and i love it sm, i was trying to think of things to write instead of my main fic that i should be working on lol, and i suddenly had like a great idea related to the song "campus by vampire weekend" i don't rly wanna give too much away but yeah expect a lot of dream in his feels lol 
> 
> also standard disclaimer!! do not repost this anywhere, i only post on ao3 and don't plan to upload this or any fics anywhere else.  
> if the dream team ever states that thy are uncomfortable with fic/shipping this will be taken down!! (also the songs lyric credits go to vampire weekend dont sue me)
> 
> i hope you like it!! <33
> 
> twitter: honey_beb_

_I wake up, my shoulder's cold ___

Dream’s eyes flit open, the sun gently beaming in through the partially open blinds of his window. He shivers at the slightly too chilly temperature of the room and pulls up his heavy quilt over his head, curling into a ball. 

Did Sapnap turn the fucking heat off again? He did this last year as well and Dream nearly murdered him for all the bitterly cold mornings Dream had woken up to. God, he’s going to kill him before the end of the month if he keeps this up. Worst roommate ever. 

He hazily remembers last night, sitting on the floor of the dorm and smoking with him. Getting high with Sapnap is always so much fun. They had sat and laughed and talked until 3 AM when they both crawled into their own respective beds. Ok, maybe not the worst roommate. 

His eyes close again and he desperately tries to clear his mind of any thoughts and fall back into sleep. 

_I've got to leave here, before I go ___

His attempts to return fully to sleep are thwarted by the little voice in the back of his head telling him that, any moment now, his alarm is going to go off. And of course, that voice is right. The harsh beeps of his stupid alarm on his stupid phone pull him from that peaceful state of in between asleep and awake. 

Eyes closed, he reaches his arm out to his desk next to his bed, slapping his hand around the table blindly searching for the source of the noise. He quickly finds the phone and swipes his thumb on the screen to turn off the alarm. 

He rolls over and sits up to check his phone for any new texts and notes that his roommate’s bed is empty. Not entirely normal for Sapnap, but sometimes he would go to a cafe early in the morning if he had work due for classes in the morning. 

“Shit.” He groans as he remembers the reason that he set that alarm in the first place. 

_I pull my shirt on, walk out the door ___

He sighs and grabs a sweater from a pile of clothes conveniently located next to his bed and tugs it over his head. He decides that his sweatpants that he wore to bed will be adequate for the day, or at least his first class. 

Signing up for a class at 8:30 in the morning was probably the worst idea he’s had all year. He makes a mental note to ensure that all of his classes next semester don’t start before at least 10 AM. 

Every single time he has this class he dreads waking up so early for it. 

He sits on his bed, tugging on a pair of sneakers, then reaches over to grab his laptop and the book that they were reading in class. He shouldn’t need anything else, right? Well, it’s not like it matters, he probably won’t even be awake for most of the class anyways. He pauses to yawn, then heads out the door. 

_Drag my feet along the floor ___

He checks the time of his phone as he slowly walks down the stairwell of his dorm.

8:18

He’s got time. He pulls open his messages and sends a quick text to his roommate and continues walking. 

Dream: hey man where u at

He watches his phone for a second then clicks it off and puts it in his pant pocket. Just as he puts it in his pocket it buzzes and he pulls it out again. 

_Sapnap: coffee shop ___  
_Sapnap: totally forgot ab an essay i have due today lmao ___

He figured. 

_Sapnap: u want a drink or sumn? i can bring it back to the dorm 4 u when i’m done ___

_Dream: no i have class in like 15 min ugh ___

_Sapnap: lmaoo loser ___  
_Sapnap: at least i’m smart enough to not take morning classes ___

_Dream: stfu you’re so annoying ___

_Sapnap: u know u love me <33< ___  
_Sapnap: anyways bye gotta go work ___

_Dream: k bye ___

Dream shuts his phone and continues walking along to his class at a begrudgingly slow pace. At least it was pretty today. Fall meant that the trees were all orange-y yellow and that leaves sat scattered across the brick path. The cold brought along bright clear skies, and Dream could see the remnants of the late sunset in the sky, the orange on the horizon matching the trees. The gently manicured field of grass that people hung around on during free periods had a thin layer of mist rolling off of it. 

A few other people are out, bundled up in sweaters and scarves, some holding stacks of textbooks, others have bags slung over their shoulders. All of them are also probably regretting signing up for classes this early just as much as Dream is. 

Then Dream recognizes one of the people walking towards him a bit further down the walkway.

Oh. 

_Then I see you, you're walking 'cross the campus ___

He knows that face. The thick brown hair that felt so good tangled in his fingers and the perfectly pink soft lips that fit perfectly on his own. His eyes glued to his phone, steps small and quick.

George. 

When was the last time Dream talked to him? Memories come flooding back of making out on the couch, hands wrapped around his waist, drunken smiles. 

It was about this time last year when they first kissed. They never really addressed it, because why would they? It was a one off thing. 

The only thing is, it wasn’t. 

_Cruel professor, studying romances ___

It happened again and again, days spent laying on Dream’s bed, fingers intertwined, mouths interlocked. Then the next day, back to just being “friends”. Whatever that fucking meant, for them the boundary between friends and lovers was both blurred and nonexistent. 

Dream had almost said it once. It was late at night and George had fallen asleep half on top of him, and while Dream had been watching a video on his phone he eventually put it away and simply sat in their blissful silence. He ran his hands through George’s hair, peppering the occasional kiss on the crown of his head. 

After what felt like hours, he had leaned down to the other boy as he slept, only a whisper of the first word in that deadly set of three little words spoken before the rest got caught in his throat.

Still, he knew that George didn’t feel the same way. To him it was just something fun, just messing around. Because if he felt the same way he’d say something about it, make it real, and not just leave Dream reeling in the emotional whiplash he felt every other day, right? 

It was a slow thing, their growing apart. Texts became more infrequent. They stopped hanging out as much. There were no more late night make out sessions. No nights where George slept in his arms. There wasn’t any real malice behind it, Dream thought, just bad timing. They both got busy with different things, found other friends, and eventually he was just gone. 

_How am I supposed to pretend ___  
_I never want to see you again? ___

But that was the past, and this was now. 

Unfortunately for Dream, the universe decided that today was the day the past and the present would collide, because right at that moment George looked up from his phone. Dream froze, clutching his laptop to his chest as he watched George quickly flicked his eyes across the brick path while continuing forward. Just when Dream thought he was in the clear, George looked over at him. 

He locked eyes with the boy, and watched him slow to a stop, eyes wide. Dream honestly had no idea how they hadn’t seen each other before this, but hey he wasn’t complaining. 

He awkwardly raises his hand and gives a small wave. George lets out a half smile and walks over towards him. 

_Walked to class in front of ya ___

Well shit, this is happening. 

A few steps later, George is standing in front of Dream. Dream had forgotten how much shorter he was than him. He cracks a little smile and tries not to laugh. 

Then they stand there, each waiting for the other to speak. 

“Wh-” “H-” 

Their words each try to clamber over each other and they both let out an awkward laugh. 

“You go first.” Dream says. 

“Oh, um, Hey.” George mumbles.

That’s all he has to say after all this time? Hey? 

“H-hey.” Dream says back, internally cringing at the little voice crack in the middle of the word. 

Well it’s not like he’s doing much better than George. 

“It’s been awhile.” George says, one hand running through his hair, the other holding onto his belongings. 

“Yeah, you’re right.” Dream replies. “It really has been.” 

Dream thinks he might see a faint pink blush to the other boy’s cheeks and wonders if he’s remembering the same things that he was remembering just a minute ago. 

He’s probably just just imagining it though. George never cared that much. He never could. 

“Well, I’ve got to get to class.” Dream says, voice too quick, too strained. 

George’s gaze snaps up to his, as if he was thrown from a daydream with no warning.

“Oh,” George mutters. “Well, if you’re free after class...It’d be really nice to catch up with you again.” 

Did he really just ask that? Fuck, this boy was his weakness, there’s no way he can say no. 

“Uh, yeah sure” He squeaks out. He clears his throat. 

God, he’s such an embarrassment. 

“Where do you want to meet up?” Dream asks. 

“You know the cafe? The one over by the dining hall?” 

“Yeah, I have class and stuff until 2though.” He pauses. “Does 2 work for you?” 

George shifts his books to his other arm. 

“Yeah Dream, 2 works for me.” There’s a little smile on his face now. 

He loves the way that he says his name. 

Wait, shit, class. He pulls out his phone quickly. 

8:27 

“Oh shit,” He looks down at George. “Sorry I’m gonna be so fucking late for class.”

“Oh okay,” George chuckles. “See you later Dream.” 

_You look inside and turn to the door ___  
_Drag your feet along the floor ___

Dream immediately turns and runs to his class. 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The class is entirely as boring as he expected it to be, but his previous plans to sleep through the two hours of meaningless drivel are thwarted by his racing thoughts. 

What even was that? 

He groans quietly and flops his head into his arms on the table. 

He and George were really going to talk again. After almost 9 months of complete radio silence between them. 

This is all fine, all of this is completely fine!

He takes a deep breath and slowly lets himself exhale until all the air has left his lungs. He holds that state for a second. Who knows, maybe this could be a good thing. 

It isn’t until now that he realizes how much he missed George. How much of a hole was left in his heart when they fell out of each other's lives. 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_How am I supposed to pretend ___  
_I never want to see you again? ___

The coffee shop is much warmer than the brisk cold outside. The quick, drastic change in temperature makes Dream wish he had worn more layers so he could take off the thick sweater he was wearing. 

He hates the smell of coffee. George should remember that. Dream shifts uncomfortably as he stands in line, hoping that it’ll go a little bit quicker so he can order his hot chocolate, meet up with George, and get out of here. 

Speaking of George, where is he? He pulls out his phone to check the time. 

2:06

He’s just being paranoid, it’s only 6 minutes late. Plus, it’s not like George is always the best at being on time for things. 

He reaches the counter. 

The little bell on the door to the cafe rings, but Dream doesn’t seem to notice. 

“Uh, hi.” His eyes scan the menu behind the barista, desperately trying to remember George’s coffee order for him. 

“Can I get a medium hot chocolate and a large vanilla latte?” He hopes that he’s remembering correctly. 

“Sure,” the barista replies, ringing up the price of the two drinks. 

“Name for the order?” The barista asks, voice flat. 

“Uh, Dream.” The barista nods, scribbling down his name on the sides of two cups. 

“That’ll be $14.50, sir.” 

God, since when was this place so overpriced? He reluctantly hands his precious money over to the barista then leaves the line to go wait for their drinks. 

He hears someone laugh behind him. 

Oh, he knows that laugh. 

He turns around to see George standing behind him, a wide smile on his face. 

“Since when did you memorize my coffee order?” He laughs, walking over to the barista who is calling out names for orders. He lightly touches Dream’s arm as he passes him before leaning back towards him.

“You’re such a simp for me.” He giggles. 

Dream freezes, the heat of George’s fingers on his arm and his stupid flirty words still radiating. He’s quickly snapped out of it by his stomach churning at the smell of coffee thick in the air and he walks over to where one of the baristas is giving out the finished drinks. 

“Ugh, you wish.” Dream retorts back. 

He hears someone call out his name and raises his hand just a little to signal the barista that the drinks are his. 

George grabs his drink, and Dream grabs his own. 

He takes a small sip, the slightly too hot hot chocolate singing the tip of his tongue. Still, it’s really good. It’s rich and chocolatey, and not watery at all, just as it should be. 

He hears George sigh after taking a sip of his own drink. Dream screws up his face. 

“Fuckin’ degenerate with your disgusting coffee.” He scoffs. 

George lets out an over dramatic gasp. 

“I will not tolerate any coffee slander here! You’re such an ass.” He hums, taking another small sip of his drink.

“This place literally makes the best coffee.” 

“Speaking of coffee, can we leave?” He looks over at George. “It smells so gross in here. I’m gonna be sick dude.” 

“Oh yeah, sorry, I forgot that you hate coffee.” He lets out a strained laugh, like it pains him to realize how much he’s forgotten. 

There’s now an awkward silence between them as they hastily make their way out of the fragrant coffee shop. 

Dream reaches the door first and holds it open for George. George mutters a quiet thanks as he leaves. 

The wind whips around them as they leave the toasty coffee shop and Dream watches from behind as George’s hair flutters while he quickly tries to fix it. 

Dream remembers walking along a street, just like this one. It was windy that night too. They had been drunk and were recklessly kissing all the way back to his bed. Though that night they nearly didn’t even make it home. He remembers George’s hair fluttering in the wind just as it did now, and he remembers pulling him in close and kissing the top of his head and calling him pretty. 

George turns around. 

“Where do you want to go now?” 

“We could go and sit on the field in front of the dorms? It’s pretty chill there.” Dream replies. 

_In the afternoon, you're out on the stone and grass ___

Dream loved sitting on the wide open field that sat in front of the dorm building. During his first year he spent a majority of his down time sitting on the grass, talking with friends, or just enjoying the serenity that the environment brought him. On especially clear night he’d go and just lay under the stars, marvelling at the vast expanse above him. Of course, he’d brought George there a couple times last year as well. Still, he didn’t think that George had the same appreciation for the grass and the stars that Dream held. 

“Oh yeah, I remember chilling out with you there a couple times last year. It was really nice, let’s go there.” George says fondly. 

A part of him is shocked that George even remembered that, let alone say that he enjoyed it. It makes him a little happy inside. 

The rest of the walk back to the dorm building area is filled with short, choppy sentences and slightly off-kilter small talk between the two of them. Every sentence that leaves Dream’s mouth makes him cringe a little. He wishes that they could just slide back into the easy flow of the way they would talk last year, but the words are restrained and hesitant, each speaking as if they were prepared for the other to leave at any moment. 

The sheer level of effort that Dream is putting into maintaining the way he’s talking, making sure he doesn’t say the wrong thing or mess up, is exhausting. He wants to go back to this morning and punch that Dream for agreeing to meet up with George again. He thinks that maybe some things are better left unresolved. 

When they finally reach the field, after what felt like hours in Dream’s mind, George quickly points out a nice spot next to a large maple tree. A light sprinkling of fall foliage covers the grass of the field and the crunch of the leaves underfoot is a nice distraction from this god awful conversation. 

They reach the tree after another short minute of walking, both shifting and shuffling around to find a place to sit comfily. 

After about half a minute of deciding where exactly, and how to sit they find themselves sitting quietly under the tree. Dream sips his hot chocolate, which is now unfortunately lukewarm, and holds it in his mouth for a second, puffing his cheeks out and savouring the flavours. George looks over at him and a warm smile appears on his face. 

“Are you doing that stupid thing where you keep your drink in your mouth Dream?” He giggles under his breath. “That’s so gross.” 

Dream just looks over at him and shakes his head in fake disdain. George laughs again, a bit louder this time. Dream swallows his drink, about to laugh, but ends up swallowing it completely wrong, and breaks into a coughing fit. George’s laughter grows until they’re both dying. 

It really isn’t that funny and Dream doesn’t know why he’s laughing so much, but he just keeps laughing. 

The giggles and chuckles alike eventually slow and come to a stop, the air quiet once again. But it feels different this time. The awkward tensions between them is gone, or at the least, lessened to a point where it didn’t really bother either of them anymore. 

Dream is suddenly hyperaware of how close they became during their fit of laughter. He can hear George breathing and realizes that their hands have somehow found their way to eachother. He sees George look up at him. His eyes break from Dream’s to look at his lips. 

Deja vu is really real, huh? 

The few inches of space slowly starts to close between them, lips aching to be brought together. 

Dream pauses, George’s face tilted up at his, then stops. 

He slowly pulls away from the other boy, removing his hand from George’s. 

He turns, now facing forward, eyes locked on the building in front of him. 

He speaks, quietly. 

“You can’t just keep doing this, you know that right?” His voice hitches in his throat. 

George keeps silent. 

“You can’t just act like nothing happened during the entire time when, when stuff was definitely happening! And then you just leave me and again, like you always did.” His voice is raw and full of the pain from the freshly returned memories. 

He turns to look at George. 

“I loved you.” His eyes are locked on George. “You had to have known at least known that, when it was so painfully fucking obvious.” 

“And I’m not saying that you had to love me back, because that would be unfair of me to ask you, but you didn’t even acknowledge that we were basically dating!” 

He continues, voice exasperated. 

“D-did you even like me? Or feel anything romantic towards me at all? Because I could never fucking tell. And you know what? All of these problems could’ve been solved by you actually fucking talking to me for once.” 

"Then you show up again one day and act like nothing is different, like we can just go back to being normal friends after everything that happened?"

He runs his hands through his hair. 

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I wasn’t enough to make you stay, to make you love me, to make you actually feel something for once.” 

He immediately regrets saying that. 

George swiftly turns to meet his gaze, eyes covered with a glassy sheen of tears. 

“Don’t fucking say that.” George says, his voice wavering. “That’s fucking guilt tripping Dream, you can’t do that. You haven’t even let me speak once since you started ranting at me.” 

Dream winces. 

“I’m sorry. You know how I get, I don’t always think before I say shit when I’m upset.” 

George gives a barely noticeable nod. 

Dream speaks, voice barely above a whisper. 

“You can keep talking.” 

George sighs. 

“You know what? I think I will.” 

“Do you have any idea how hard it was for me? You say that you didn’t know how I felt? Well, guess what, neither did I.” 

“It was our first year of college Dream, I barely even knew you when it all started between us. I was trying to balance living in a new country, taking harder classes, making new friends, and then all of a sudden I have to deal with the fact that I apparently like guys now, and I’m hopelessly in love with my only friend here?” 

“It was so much to deal with. Dream, I’ve never even been in a proper relationship before.” He laughs a little. “And as you know, I’m absolute shit about expressing my feelings.” 

“I tried, you know, I tried to show you how much I cared.” He lets out a tiny sigh. “Through the things that I did. Everytime I made you a playlist, or fucking picked flowers for you, I was trying to tell you that I loved you.” 

Oh. 

“Eventually though, I got scared by my feelings for you. I just couldn’t handle it anymore. But I thought you would at least say something, try to stop me from leaving.” 

Had Dream really been that stupid? 

Had both of them been that stupid? 

“God, we were really stupid about everything last year, huh?” Dream mutters. 

George seems to be thinking about the same thing that he is, because at that moment he lets out a tired laugh. 

“No, correction, you were the stupid one.” He smiles a little. “I, however, did nothing wrong. At all” 

Dream scoffs at George’s stupid attempt at humor in this shitty situation. 

“I’m sorry,” He pauses. “You know that right?” 

Dream nods at him. 

“I’m sorry too.” 

They sit there in the new quiet, each reflecting on what the other has said. Digesting and processing the heavy words placed upon them. 

Dream thinks of all the little things that he missed in his selective memory of his time with George. The little notes written just for him, the stupid football games that George had sat through for him, and the pretty bouquets of flowers that sat in a vase on his desk. He had been so caught up in thinking that George could never return his feelings in the same way that he missed the whole world screaming the he did. 

A large orange leaf flutters down in a small gust of wind and lands in between the two of them. 

It was the middle of November when they kissed last year. 

They both look down at the leaf, then at each other. 

The leaves had been orange then too. 

George cracks a sad smile at him. 

They just sit there quietly for a while. 

Slowly, they begin talking again. The words starts small and quiet, but eventually they find the right rhythm and flow to the conversation. The words pour out of each of them, each eager to replace the 9 empty months between them.They cover too many topics to count, recounting the past, but also the present. Hours pass, and yet they still keep talking. When they run out of things to say, they lay on their back and just watch the clouds pass by, their drinks from the cafe long gone. 

Dream finds that their hands have managed to become gently intertwined yet again and as the sun begins to set, and he turns to look over at George. His face is blissfully calm and he points out a cloud that he says looks like a dog, but Dream doesn’t see it. All Dream can see is George. 

There’s no deja vu this time when George’s eyes turn and meet his own once again. This time is new and only their own, without the weight of their past selves weighing down on them. The temperature has dropped even more as the afternoon has progressed and Dream can see George’s breath in little clouds in front of his face. 

_And I'm sleeping on the balcony after class ___

He props himself up on one arm, so that he’s leaning a bit over George, who is still on his back from when they were watching the clouds. God, this is going to be so stupid if it doesn’t work. 

He clears his throat. 

“You’ve uh, you’ve got something on your face there.” He says, looking down at his lips.

George looks amused. 

“Oh do I?” He pauses, a mischievous grin on his face. “Can you get it for me?” 

“Sure.” 

The space between them is closed almost instantly, with George raising his head in order to reach Dream a little faster, to bring them together just a little easier. God, how he missed this feeling. His lips are soft and Dream can taste a hint of the cinnamon chapstick that he uses. Kissing George feels like ecstasy and every other drug in the world and he wonders how he managed to survive so long without this. Their mouths move slow and they savour the moment. Everything about this is just exactly how it’s supposed to be and he knows that it's all just right. 

They break away, reluctantly so, but it was bound to happen eventually. His breath is hot on George’s face and he eventually collapses down onto him, his head laying on George’s chest. They both laugh a bit then it quiets down again. 

They stay like that for what feels like a perfect eternity, breath perfectly in sync as Dream lays on his chest, George gently running his hand through his hair. Occasionally George will say something quietly under his breath, but Dream doesn’t bother replying in fear of breaking the blissful peace they share. 

He feels George lean up a little to press a kiss to the top of his head, just as Dream did that night so long ago when he had almost said I love you. The parallels are almost comedic. 

Still, Dream knows that they’ll be okay. If someone is meant to be yours, they'll find a way back to you, and that's what George did.

**Author's Note:**

> if you liked this drop a follow on my [twitter!](https://twitter.com/honey_beb_)


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